Dirty Like Jude: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 5)

by Jaine Diamond

  Not that day.

  That day, I wasn’t there for bro time.

  I was pretty damn sure Piper wouldn’t give a flying fuck that I’d hooked up with Roni last night, but. After I’d driven her home in the middle of the night, kissed her good night and basically grinned to myself all the way home, I’d run into Jesse. The guys were back from Dylan’s party; Brody was in bed, Zane was in the bathroom, and Jesse was in the kitchen when I walked in. He’d taken one look at me and asked, with a shit-eating grin, “Where’d you disappear to?”

  All I said was, “Took Roni for a ride,” and for sure, the fucker could read it all over me.

  He raised an eyebrow. Then he said something that kinda stopped my heart. “Pipe okay with that?”

  Of course Piper was okay with it. He had no interest in Roni.

  But then it stayed on my mind all night, and what started as an uncomfortable, tight feeling in my chest grew into a motherfucking anvil by the time morning came.

  So I got my ass on my bike and went to see my brother. If there was gonna be any kind of problem, the sooner I got this over with—and hopefully diffused the bomb—the better.

  I just had to make sure Piper saw Roni Webber the same way I saw her, in one respect.

  Available.

  To me.

  Because if there was one thing I’d learned about my brothers in the MC—including Piper—it was that they were territorial as fuck about women. If they wanted to be.

  No matter if they had a right to be or not.

  Which meant that even if he wasn’t involved with Roni, Piper might somehow still see her as his territory.

  Fucked up, but that’s just how it was.

  I’d never thought of Roni as Piper’s territory, even when she was chasing after him—but then I’d never fucked her before, either.

  It wasn’t like I was gonna let my brother tell me I couldn’t have her. But if there was any territorial line to be drawn, I needed to draw it. Right now.

  I shut off my bike, and that Bob Marley remix with Steven Tyler and Joe Perry was playing over the stereo system. And you know when a great song gets fucking ruined for you?

  That song.

  That day.

  We made small talk for about five seconds, while I pretended to be interested in the ’57 BMW R26 he was restoring, the one our dad had given him. Then I came right out with it.

  “You know Roni Webber?”

  “Who?”

  I stared at him. Seriously?

  “Roni,” I said. “Webber.”

  My brother looked back at me blankly, swiping his blond hair out of his eyes.

  “Black hair,” I said slowly, figuring that was one of her more distinguishing features. Her other distinguishing features, I really didn’t wanna get into with him. “Jessa Mayes’ friend…”

  “Right. Roni. Wild Card, right? The one with the tits.” I took a deep breath, steeling myself for this. The anvil was just getting heavier. “Yeah, I know her. She’s pretty tight, but not really my speed.”

  Something hot and terrible that felt a hell of a lot like jealous fury rose through me.

  “Tight?”

  “Yeah. Fucked her on the kitchen counter at a party out at Crusler’s… Remember that party where Shady went through the fuckin’ coffee table?”

  My whole body lit up like a struck match.

  Yeah, I remembered that party. The one where, when I’d arrived, I found Roni alone on the back step in the dark with tears in her eyes.

  And I kissed her.

  Fuck, no.

  I found my voice. “Just once?”

  “Yeah, I mean I wasn’t really into her. She just kept puttin’ it in my face. You know the type.”

  “What type?” My voice was way low. I knew, when he said what he said, he had no idea I’d had sex with Roni last night, or that I liked her.

  It didn’t make me any less furious.

  He stood up, wiping his hands on a rag, his eyes narrowing at me.

  “A slut,” he said. “That type.”

  My fists clenched so hard at my sides, my knuckles cracked. “Take that the fuck back.”

  “Why?” He tossed the rag aside. “You got a hard-on for her? She’s a piece, brother—”

  My fist connected with his face faster than either of us seemed to know it was gonna happen. He staggered back into the BMW, but it didn’t fall over. Then he bounced right back off it and slugged me with his iron fist, right in the gut.

  I doubled over with a grunt and fell to my knees.

  Piper shoved me down on my side; I was in the fetal position and he stood over me, barely breathing hard. I was a pretty big dude by then. My brother was bigger.

  More important than that, he was a stronger fighter. He could’ve destroyed me, if he ever wanted to.

  We both knew it.

  “Cool off,” he said, cracking his jaw. “The fuck is your deal?”

  My deal?

  My fucking deal was, I was crushed.

  In that moment, the wind was so knocked out of me, I didn’t even have the will to get the fuck up, to stand up like a man.

  I never knew Piper had sex with Roni. I knew she had a crush on him or whatever. Her dumbass sexual bucket list. But I’d never asked him about her before. I’d never seen him pay more attention to her than a few words here or there at some party. He never seemed interested, and I’d somehow actually convinced myself that nothing had ever happened between them.

  That he’d never touched her.

  How fucking stupid was I?

  “You pissed ’cause I fucked her?” Piper asked. “Or ’cause I bounced her ass? Girl never goes back for seconds anyway. Said so herself, right after we fucked and I told her to get goin’.”

  I rolled over with a groan. “Just shut up.”

  Roni had said that to me, too. Told me, many times. Just something she said to save face and act like it didn’t bother her when some guy had brushed her off. Whatever, she’d tell me, I never go back for seconds anyway.

  The fact that she’d said it to my brother… after he’d given her his infamous fuck ’n’ go?

  We already fucked, sweetheart, time for you to go.

  How many times had I heard him say that to some chick at the clubhouse when he was done with her?

  And now I had it in my head that he’d said that to Roni… after he… at that shitty party…

  I just lay there on the floor staring up at him, fucking hating him for the first time in my life, as he stared down at me, waiting for me to speak or stand the fuck up.

  “What?” His eyes narrowed at me again. “You fucked her?” He laughed a bit. “You like her? You wanna go back for seconds?” He shook his head, like he felt sorry for me. “Sorry, little brother, I don’t think she’s that kind of girl, but hey, knock yourself out. You’ll learn.”

  I got to my feet, slowly.

  “The fuck does that mean?”

  “It means, I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking, but you can’t have a girl like that around the club and think she’s your girl. She’s a groupie. You’ll never be able to trust her around the club or the band. None of the guys will respect her. She’ll just cheat on your ass—”

  I got on my bike and tore out of the garage before I could hear any more.

  I was pissed the fuck off that he’d put his hands on Roni. That he’d fucked her. That he’d used her like that.

  That maybe he’d hurt her.

  That he thought she was just some slut.

  I was fucking destroyed, actually.

  But worse… I was pissed because I was afraid he was right.

  Right about her.

  Right about what would happen if I let myself care about her… and think she might be mine.

  After that, I didn’t call her. I didn’t see her around, because I made myself busy at the clubhouse and avoided every place she might be, including Dirty rehearsals.

  I thought about her, though.

  I thought about how
, when I’d left on tour with Dirty, she’d come to see me off. How she’d seemed so bummed that I was leaving. I thought about that goodbye kiss we’d had and how I’d started to believe she really cared about me. I thought about how, while I was away on tour and missing her, I’d spent so much time thinking about how much I cared about her.

  I always did care, really, just denied it to myself because I never really thought she felt that way about me.

  Then when we came home from the tour and I saw her at Dylan’s party, the way she looked at me… The way she looked at me while we had sex that night… I was so fucking sure the feelings between us were mutual.

  But now I knew the truth.

  I was her second choice.

  I was always her second choice. The choice she only made because Piper had already fucked her and rejected her.

  I managed to avoid her for exactly a week, until the night of a Dirty show at the Back Door.

  The bar was packed and it was a big night; everyone had been going ape shit over Dirty’s new original song, “Love Struck,” and Brody was talking about cutting a demo, this year. He’d convinced a bunch of local industry people to come to the show, including some big record producer. So it was an important show, and luckily Brody had managed to fill the room with a hot crowd of Dirty’s ever-growing local allegiance of fans.

  The band was excited.

  I was happy for them, of course.

  But I wasn’t happy.

  And my night only turned from shit to worse when I saw Roni.

  I was making my way through the crowd with Brody, and the place was so packed I didn’t even see her until she’d appeared right in front of me.

  I walked right past her, and she was so expecting me to stop that she had to kinda spin out of the way to avoid getting plowed down.

  She didn’t quite take the hint, though.

  Two minutes later she popped up in front of me again. I was standing at the back of the bar, my back to the wall, talking to Jesse, but as soon as he saw her he clapped me on the shoulder and took off.

  Some wingman.

  All he knew, though, was that I’d taken her for a “ride” last weekend. Which meant he probably assumed I liked her. I didn’t even bother telling him the rest. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get the words out of my mouth without puking, or killing someone.

  She stood right in front of me in her skintight, incredibly low-rise jeans and midriff-baring shirt. “Hey,” she said, kinda bouncing on her toes as she hooked her thumbs in her jeans. She even smiled at me.

  I didn’t smile. “Hey.”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Clubhouse.”

  She quit bouncing, her smile faltering at my lack of basic manners. “Cool. Did you bring your bike tonight? Maybe we could go for a ride after the show…” She looked me over, maybe reading my body language, and amended, “Or maybe a cream soda?”

  “I’m working,” I said. “How’d you get in?”

  “Oh. Ben got me a fake ID.”

  “Ben?”

  “Yeah. You know… Blazer?”

  I knew Ben/Blazer. He was a King and one of my brother’s best friends. And apparently, he’d gotten Roni a fake ID at some point while I was away on tour.

  Yeah, you fuck him too?

  The words were right on the tip of my tongue, but I bit them back.

  Her eyebrows pulled together and she chewed a little on her sexy bottom lip. “You’re upset about something…”

  Perceptive.

  I should’ve maybe just disappeared backstage, but I wasn’t gonna run and hide from her or spend the rest of my life avoiding her at every party in town. She sought me out. That was her mistake, not mine.

  “I’m busy,” I said. The band was on in about half an hour, and I could’ve been busy, but all I did was stand there. Of all things, “Cold Hard Bitch” was playing, and it was fueling my fucking fire.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her green eyes going wide. She looked concerned—about me.

  It only pissed me off more.

  “Thought you said you never go back for seconds,” I said, with all the cold-ass prick I could summon.

  She stared at me. Then her backbone went rigid and she stopped pushing her tits toward me. “Well,” she said, “what if I want to, with you?”

  “What if I don’t?”

  She drew back like I’d slapped her. But then she fired right back, “What the hell happened? What changed since I saw you, like a week ago? You took me to your place and lit candles and kissed me for like three hours…”

  “So?”

  Her plump lips twitched in a legit pout. “So… So we had sex and now you’re just trying to blow me off?”

  Yeah, that was about it.

  Could she not get the fucking message?

  She had to be able to fucking feel it. My skin was practically crawling with disgust. I knew I was acting different. I was even looking at her differently, like she was beneath me or something—like I couldn’t even stand looking at her, and that was the fucking truth.

  But there was a shitload of pain behind it that I was not gonna let her see.

  Too bad for both of us, Roni Webber was not a girl to back down from a fight or a man, even a pissed-the-hell-off one. She had way too much experience for a girl her age. And right now, all of it was fucking eating me.

  Every time I looked in her green eyes, the want I had for her just churned in my stomach with the revulsion.

  “It’s just not gonna work,” I told her, as dead-cold as I could manage. I’d never been a cold dude, but it was the only way I knew how to deal with her.

  Just shut her out, completely.

  “I… I thought…” She was struggling, really struggling to pull together the pieces in her head. “I thought… this was the real thing. You know, like… real.”

  She stared at me, at a total fucking loss when I said nothing.

  “I thought you felt… the same. We spent so much time, and… I thought we both wanted… I trusted you. I confided in you.”

  I stared back at her, silently fucking furious, because she was right.

  I did want.

  I did start to trust.

  And she screwed my brother.

  She sure as fuck never confided in me about that.

  She was still standing there, in my face, and I needed her gone.

  So I took her hand, pulled her close to me and twined my fingers through hers, holding her there. Her nose was an inch from mine when I told her, slowly and deliberately, “You and me, we’re not goin’ down that road.”

  She stared up into my eyes, looking hurt and damn confused. “Why not?”

  “Because, sweetheart, you tried to go down that road with Piper first.”

  She ripped her hand from mine.

  “You think I wasn’t gonna find out?” I said, low and fucking accusing, letting some of that hateful fire that had been simmering in me all week burn right through the cold.

  She was shaking her head slowly, staring at me, and tears were starting to brim in her eyes. And all I could hear in my head was my brother’s voice.

  You know the type.

  You’ll never be able to trust her…

  “I was wrong about you, Jude Grayson,” she said, and the tears started rolling down her face. “You weren’t falling in love with me. You never cared about me at all. You were just using me for a place to put your dick. Just like your brother.”

  Then she turned and took off.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Roni

  It was Saturday night, and I was spending the next few hours with a super cute boy.

  Baby Nick was all swaddled up in his blankie in my arms, and I was settling in to cuddle the hell out of him. Jessa’s date with Brody had gone so well two weeks ago—what with the marriage proposal and all the sex—they decided to have another one. So I was at their house, in the party room, rocking Nicky in the big, cozy glider rocking chair they’d put in so Jessa cou
ld comfortably nurse the baby in the middle of whatever party was going on.

  Jessa had left her Girl Time playlist quietly playing for us, which apparently put Nicky to sleep like nobody’s business. At the moment, we were rocking to Gwen Stefani, “4 In The Morning.”

  And damn, Jessa and her Girl Time music…

  I wanted to know I was safe, too.

  I wanted to have a really true love.

  I never wanted to have to give Jude up.

  “I hear ya, Gwen. Sing it, girl,” I said softly, rocking baby Nick. He was warm, cuddly dead weight and I figured my arms would soon be asleep, but I didn’t much care. Looking into that tiny, serene, perfect little face, I felt all kinds of affection for Jessa’s baby boy.

  I felt protective of him, too.

  Jessa had mentioned getting a regular babysitter, maybe one night a month for now, so she and Brody could have a proper date. I’d immediately kiboshed that plan. As long as I had some notice and we could arrange it on a night I didn’t have an event, I told her I’d be happy to do it. It would only be a few hours at a time anyway, and honestly I didn’t mind the alone time with Nick. I wanted him to know his Auntie Roni.

  You know, the cool aunt.

  I was definitely a big fat load of envious, though, watching Jessa head out the door on Brody’s arm to have another romantic night with the man she loved—a man who loved her right back.

  While the man I loved wasn’t even talking to me.

  Because I’d pushed him away.

  As usual, it wasn’t like I didn’t have other options for dates. I just didn’t want other options.

  My phone was constantly buzzing with oncoming messages from other men. But I never answered them anymore. For the first time, I really wasn’t interested in juggling a bunch of prospects, keeping them on the line just in case.

  Just like that first time Jude went away on tour… I felt like I was saving myself for him. Waiting for him to come back to me.

  Really, I was no stranger to waiting… even if the man I was waiting for never came back.

  I tucked the little stuffed toy I’d given Nicky shortly after he was born—the purple monkey—into his blankie with him. One of my mom’s boyfriends, the only one I ever actually liked, had given it to me. After he’d left—or maybe my mom drove him away—I’d longed for him. I wanted him to come back.